Chuck Palahniuk, "Escort"

I haven’t read much Palahniuk, just some essays, mostly because he mostly writes novels but also because my outsider impression of him is that he is obsessed with the ugliness of life, and I’m not sure how often that mood strikes this reader. (That sentence is pretty ugly, sorry.) But the ugliness in the somber “Escort” is also pretty beautiful. Blunt, yes, but fair. To ugliness.